


Slip Slidin' Away

by jenajasper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby TLC, Daydreaming, Fantasizing, Imagination, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Fantasy, Wet Clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:02:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenajasper/pseuds/jenajasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean give Baby a wash and a wax. And a leisurely day in the sun tends to make your mind wander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baby

Sam was already up and dressed when his brother came home with coffee. Dean walked in and said, “She’s filthy.”  
Sam asked, “Who, your date?”   
Dean wrinkled his brow and looked at his brother as he responded, “No, Sam. Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about the car.”  
Sam replied. “The car is in the gutter, Dean.”

Dean ignored the comment as he walked passed him. He stripped down to his t-shirt and shorts then, slipped on a pair of sweats. Sam asked if he was going to bed and was told, “Wouldn’t that be redundant? But I’m glad you’re up. Grab your coffee and let’s go.”  
Sam didn’t know what surprised him more, Dean’s energy level or the fact that he had used the word ‘redundant’

Sam knew Dean wasn’t a lazy guy but he did like his sleep. And Sam enjoyed watching him sleep. For those few hours, he wasn’t responsible for anything. He was relaxed and at peace, a happiness that Sam wanted to be able to give him. Not comfortable, with his thoughts, any longer, Sam picked up his cup and walked out of the room. He leaned against the Impala and sipped his coffee. Dean walked out of the room soon after, locked the door and turned towards the car. He couldn’t have imagined better. 

The sun was coming up from behind the Impala. It still had that hazy, early morning glow and the light it cast, haloed what Dean loved most in the world. The car was dirty but Sam was beautiful. Dean laughed to himself as he reversed the thought. But that was fantasy and he would do what he always did, what he did last night.

Neither of them knew how the other felt. They loved each other; they knew that. Would die for each other, even though they couldn’t let that happen. Dreams and fantasy would have to satisfy them.

After they got into the car, Sam asked where they were going. Thinking it was obvious, Dean said as much. Sam just shrugged his shoulders and drank his coffee. He would find out when they got there.

Dean had found a spot outside of town, under the highway. It was quiet; it was private and there was fresh water. As Dean pulled the car to a stop, Sam noticed the water pipe. It was probably left over from some construction project. As he continued to look around, he realized how secluded they were. He hadn’t noticed that Dean was already out of the car. Sam walked to the trunk and saw Dean bent over and reaching into the back. The fit of his brother's sweatpants created thoughts that made it necessary for Sam to turn away. 

He turned back, when he heard his name, to see Dean’s hand waving a bucket, then another. They were filled with chamois, giant sponges and, what looked like, clean, cloth diapers. "Dean really loves his car." Sam thought out loud. Dean pulled out an empty cooler and dumped in the contents of the buckets. He asked Sam to retrieve the beer cooler, while he got the water.

Sam watched his brother sprinkle the powdered cleaner, he used, into one bucket. He filled the other with clean water. Then, he grabbed a sponge, soaked it, and began to wash the car. No, he massaged the car. He caressed the car. Sam wanted to lay on the hood so Dean could do that to him. 

Dean had opened the far door and stood on the frame to reach across the roof. He threw the sponge at daydreaming Sam and said, “a little help here. Why do you think I brought you along?” Then he waved his arm, back and forth, across the top. Sam had his own thoughts of why they should be there. 

They were in a shady place; the warmth of the sun not able to reach them. Dean couldn’t let the sun dry the water and make spots. After the car was soaped and rinsed, Sam picked up the water bucket while Dean rinsed the other. His intention was to rinse the car again but, with Dean’s back turned, he couldn’t resist. 

Sam dumped the water over his brother’s head. Instinctively, Dean spun around and emptied his bucket on Sam. They were both soaked. Their t-shirts were clinging and molded to their skin. Sam hated the feeling of wet clothes. He stripped off his shirt and flung it at Dean, who held it to his chest and watched his brother dig through the cooler for a dry cloth. 

Dean watched the water beads sparkle on Sam's skin. He watched his muscles ripple as his long arms and fingers searched through the supplies. He imagined those fingers wrapped around his…He was having those thoughts again. Dean wrung out Sam’s t-shirt and laid it on a sunny patch of grass. He needed to keep himself busy and his mind elsewhere. He was grateful that the water was cold.

Sam watched Dean, also. He could see the smooth contours of his body through the wet shirt. Sam worked hard to look this way but, Dean never exercised, ate and drank like a slob and he was perfect. 

ooooooooooooooooooooooo 

He wanted to grab his brother and lay out in the sun. He wanted to run his hands over that smooth, taut skin. He wanted to caress that face and look into those eyes. He wanted to feel the plump softness of those lips, on his fingers. He wanted to enjoy the sensation as he slides his thumb into his brother’s mouth, hot and wet. .


	2. Sam

Dean could feel the sun’s heat through his wet clothes. He lay down in the grass and called to his brother. “Sammy, come sit in the sun. You’ll dry faster.” Sam had been unsuccessful finding anything large enough to really help him dry off. He decided that Dean might have a good idea. Sam stood up. 

The sun was behind him and, from where he stood Dean was partially in his shadow. He was looking at Sam with his hand shading his eyes. The only part of him lit by the sun was from his lips to his chest. Sam stared at those pouty pink lips and imagined what they could do. If only they would.

Dean opened his mouth and Sam felt his stomach drop. Other parts of him moved as well. He realized Dean was talking to him and calling him over. Sam felt a shiver, he assumed, from the cold water, and composing himself, (inconspicuously, he thought, adjusting himself), he joined his brother on the grass.

Dean removed his shirt and lying down, covered his eyes with his arm. Sam could see his brother’s stomach rise and fall with each breath. On the exhale, a space was created between the knot in his sweatpants and his skin. Enough room for a hand to slip in, Sam thought. He didn’t realize his own hand was in his waistband until he heard Dean’s voice. 

“Thanks for the help. She looks beautiful again.” Dean sat up, as he spoke, and was looking straight ahead at the Impala. Sam pretended to be scratching an imaginary itch. Dean smiled then asked, “Something you want to tell me, Sammy?” Dean had lain back down and covered his eyes, again.

Sam looked over and could see only Dean’s lips. He told him no. It was followed by a small laugh from deep in Dean’s throat. He was making this very difficult. Dean scooted over leaving only his legs in the sun. He used the excuse of needing the shade. The closeness only added to Sam’s discomfort. 

He attempted to slide further away when Dean wrapped his arm around his brother’s waist. Dean felt the muscles tighten and ran his fingers over them as they quivered beneath his hand. 

Sam was flustered. “Dean, what are you doing? Are you nuts?”  
“Maybe,” he answered, “But am I wrong?”  
Sam jumped up and, keeping his back to his brother, he said, “Dean. This is crazy and all kinds of wrong.”  
Dean responded. “Says who? I know I’m not alone, here.”  
Sam started to walk away.

In an instant, Dean was up and took hold of Sam’s arm to stop him. He loosened his grip and lightly stroked the arm. He could feel the goose flesh rise beneath his fingers. Both were breathing in quick, short breaths, pulses racing, and feeling a heat, not from the sun.

Sam turned and looked at Dean’s face. He was totally in his shadow; his green eyes were dark and pleading. Sam thought for only a moment. Beyond that, the physical took control.

Sam reached out and gently held his brother’s face, his jaw resting in the palm of his hand. With his thumb, Sam traced Dean’s lips. His moist breath warmed Sam’s finger and his thumb entered his mouth. The small moan that escaped from Dean tingled Sam’s finger and traveled through him like electricity. Dean closed his eyes and without words, he posed the question, ‘are we really gonna do this?’

The answer came swiftly. Sam moved his hand to the nape of Dean’s neck and wrapping his other arm around his waist, pressed his hand against the small of his back and pulled him close. Dean reached around his brother and gripping Sam’s shoulders, from behind, pulled him down, until their lips met. 

 

ooooooooooooooooo

The slap of the cold, wet t-shirt on his skin brought Sam out of his reverie. He saw Dean seated on the grass and heard him calling, “Sammy, come sit in the sun.”


	3. Dean

Dean sat on the grass; the heat of the sun relieving the chill from his wet clothes. He shaded his eyes with his hand and watched Sam. 

He watched his smooth, broad back and shoulders as he rifled through the cooler. He followed the line of his spine down to what he imagined, just below the waistband. 

Dean called to his brother and watched him stand. He blocked the sun, his silhouette like a colossus, reminding Dean of the perfect museum statue. He felt his breath quicken and knew it was no longer the sun that warmed him.

Sam walked over and sat next to him. Dean removed his t-shirt and lying back, covered his eyes with his arm. 

He felt Sam’s hand on him, as it moved from his chest down passed his stomach and paused at his waistband. Dean’s breathing became more pronounced as Sam reached for the string loop on his sweats. Dean took hold of his brother’s hand and held tight as he sat up.

Their eyes met but neither spoke. Dean released his brother's hand. Sam pushed off from his right side and swung himself over Dean’s outstretched legs. He was on his knees straddling his brother and holding Dean’s face in his hands. Their eyes locked as Sam pulled his brother close. Their closeness was creating a physical pressure that needed release. Dean reached around to the nape of Sam’s neck and grabbed a fistful of his brother’s hair in his hands. They kissed.

It was tender and tentative, at first, but all this time and anticipation soon created an explosion. Their interaction became forceful and frenzied, almost violent. 

Sam feasted on Dean’s plump lips. He sucked, bit and licked before sliding his tongue into the moistness. Dean welcomed Sam’s tongue with his mouth; he captured it with his teeth. While Sam explored his brother’s mouth, Dean tightened his grasp on Sam’s hair, with one hand, and with the other, pulled Sam’s head closer.  
Dean forced his own tongue into Sam’s mouth. A low, soft moan escaped Sam and bending his knees, he lowered himself, bringing their hips closer. Dean brought his knees up touching his thighs to his brother’s back, bringing them even closer.

They could feel each other’s arousal and knew that soon, they would be unable to stop. 

When they finally separated, Sam rested against his brother’s thighs and looked into his eyes. He ran his hands along Dean’s throat, around his shoulders and to his chest, before resting them on his own knees.  
Dean fell back resting his weight on his elbows, still looking into Sam's eyes. Running his index finger along Dean's lower lip, one last time, Sam removed himself from atop his brother and sat, legs bent, folding his arms to rest on his knees, and his forehead on his arms. Dean dropped his head back, closing his eyes, and exhaled a long, slow breath. Each had yet to speak.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Dean sat up, using his hand to shade his face. A small laugh escaped him as he shook his head and looked at Sam. He hadn’t moved since Dean had called to him, giving him all this time to think. He reached for Sam’s still damp t-shirt and balling it up, flung it at his brother. 

The impact startled Sam and Dean called again, “Sammy, come sit in the sun.”  



End file.
